The Fix It Man
by 3VAD127
Summary: AU. A young girl splashed through the mud, rain soaking her raven-colored hair and lightning cracking against the sky. Uncle Sokka could fix this. Uncle Sokka could fix anything. *implied Zutara*


**Disclaimer:** _Avatar_ and all related titles, characters, logos, and merchandise are property of Nickelodeon Studios and the entire crew on _Avatar_. Not me. Obviously.

**Author's Notes:** Since I've had so much time on my hands, I've had many opportunities to write but very little time to read and reply. I can get just enough to post and maybe reply to a few e-mails, but after that, I've been stuck with no Internet access. I'll be posting many oneshots, some of which have been floating in my head for a _long_ time, and I will probably start back up on my seriously long stories once we get this whole connection deal ironed out.

I hate HughesNet. They suck.

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**The Fix-It Man**

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Uncle Sokka could fix anything.

--

Something hissed.

Water flew through the open doorway and froze against the wall; fire cascaded and, with a whoosh, erupted into a violent inferno on impact. When the flames touched the super-frozen ice, steam flew outward so quickly that the entire thing exploded harshly, shards of ice embedding themselves into the wooden doorways and floors and ceilings.

Dark spirits cast black shadows throughout the home. The only source of light was the occasional burst of fire, which bathed everything in a muted red-orange. Red.

A child huddled in the corner, her entire body covered in shadows. Mommy and Daddy were fighting again. She could hear their voices screaming at each other through the wooden walls. Mommy was upset a lot of times, especially when Daddy didn't come home… but she had never heard her so upset before. So sad. She knew her mother was sad, and that it was Daddy's fault. But Daddy acted like he hadn't done anything wrong.

She sniffed. She hated it when they fought. Usually, it was just a few teasing words or a lilting gesture, but this time was so much different. They were screaming and getting angry and actually trying to hurt each other. It scared her, sometimes, how passionate they could be.

She hated it because they forgot her. The whole world narrowed down to just them two, and they didn't seem to remember that they had a child to think of, a girl to look after. Didn't they know how their fighting affected her? She was sad because her mommy was sad. She was scared because she could feel that, deep down, Daddy was scared too. She could see it in the way his eyes were wide open, or how he wouldn't look at her when Mommy was around.

It was raining outside.

Her dark little feet made pattering noises as she ran on the muddy road. The sky was darkened over with inky clouds, and the rain was freezing cold as it hit her small shoulders. She liked the frigid water because it hid her tears. Her bare feet were covered in mud from sloshing through the thick, mucky street. Her breath came in frozen gasps.

There was a light.

She was crying tears of joy now. It was a lantern, warm and bright. So homey. She ran quickly up the few short steps onto the porch, banging desperately on the door. Her small voice called out for someone, anyone, to come out and help her. It was so cold, and her thin dress was doing nothing to ward the chill away. The young girl shivered violently.

A man answered, dressed only in purple undergarments and a pair of dark blue fitted pants. He was wiping the sleep from his bright blue eyes, but the instant he saw her, he swept her into his arms and took her inside. Her trembling hand grabbed his shoulder and latched on tightly; his chocolate skin and her own lightly-tanned shade weren't very far apart. Her hair was soft and black, while his was a thick brown color. She touched it, touched them both, and compared them.

Even when he set the small girl down on a fur-covered chair standing before a roaring fire, she didn't want him to leave. "I'll be back soon, I promise." And she knew he was telling the truth in the way his soft blue eyes sparkled and his thin mouth quirked up in a smile. She trusted him.

He returned and gave her something hot and good to drink. She smelled it. The scent made her feel warm all over.

The man pulled her into his arms and sat in the chair, tugging a woolen blanket over both of them. Comfortable. He sighed and stretched his bare feet toward the fire. His eyes were soft when he looked at her, and his large, rough fingers were gentle when they stroked away the black hair that had stuck to her forehead. She was still sopping wet, but he didn't care. Anything to make her shivering go away.

She rubbed her face, trying to make her salty tear tracks disappear. A little sniff. "Uncle Sokka… Mommy and Daddy are fighting again." She took another drink, only because its heat made her forget how much she wanted to cry. He stroked the base of her skull with a tender thumb.

"I figured as much," he said softly, eyes downcast.

"It was really scary." Her onyx-colored curls clung to his skin when she rested her head against his chest. "I know Daddy and Mommy don't always agree, and I'm okay with that. I can understand if they don't get along. But… but they've never thrown things at each other before. They've never actually wanted to hurt each other before." The memory made her eyes sting and the breath hitch in her throat. She was sad again.

Wiry arms wrapped her in a tender embrace. "It's true your parents fight a lot," he admitted, "…actually, a lot more than normal people's parents. But that doesn't mean they don't love each other, and that doesn't mean they don't love you." She pulled back enough to look him straight in the eye, liquid golden eyes full of sadness but also a little bit of familiar hope. He had seen it in her mother's eyes many times before.

"They love you," Sokka repeated, "so much. And they love each other too. It's just that sometimes…" he struggled to find the right words, "…sometimes, adults need to figure things out on their own. You know how stupid it is to fight, and that's because you're a smart little girl." She laughed. "But your mom and dad need that sometimes. They need to be angry with each other, and fight a lot, and use words that hurt. They need to figure these things out on their own, alright?"

She nodded and wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. "Alright. I still just wish they would get along."

Her uncle sighed. "So do I, sweetheart. But we can't always get what we want, now can we?" He offered her a lopsided grin.

The girl's large eyes sparkled happily. "Will you help them?"

He started. "What?"

"Will you help them? Y'know, just in case they can't figure it out. If they can't, then you sure can. You're Uncle Sokka, and you can fix anything." Her smile was so large, her face alight with sincerity, and Sokka felt his heart melting. She was precious, just like her mother.

He tried to chuckle. "I'll do my best, sweetheart, but there's no promises. Not even Uncle Sokka can fix _everything_."

His niece's golden eyes were large and sad. "But you'll try, right? You'll do your best to fix it, just in case they can't."

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "Yes. I will. But right now it's time for _you_—" she giggled when he tickled her tummy, "—to go to bed." He held her, but she shrieked when they approached the darkened hallway and tightened her furious grip on the blanket around their shoulders.

"I don't wanna go down there." Her tiny face was fearful.

The man pursed his lips, thinking. "I have an idea. Stay here, okay?" She nodded slightly, and he disappeared for a few moments into the kitchen. When he returned, he held a candle in his hands. "Now we can have light."

"How?"

"Here, let me show you." He made her grab hold of the candle, wrapping his larger hand over the girl's tiny one. Her other fingers hovered over the candle's wick. "Now it's time for the world's greatest Firebender to perform her first and most amazing trick," he joked.

"But… I can't light a candle. I can barely make smoke come from my fingers, much less make a flame like Daddy's." Her bottom lip quivered.

Sokka sighed. "Listen to me. I have a secret that I bet your daddy didn't tell you." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He was a really bad bender when he first started out." She gasped, and he nodded sagely. "It's true. He wasn't always able to throw fire around at will; that only came after lots of hard work, practice, and motivation. But he started off just like you are right now: by lighting this candle."

He guided her hand to the wick. "Now pinch it." She did. "And breathe. I'm not a Firebender, so I can't walk you through this, but I do know that fire comes from the breath. There's energy inside your body that, when you exhale, proceeds from the limbs and becomes fire. At least, that's what I've heard. Now you try it."

She tried it. And at first, it didn't work, and she felt sad again. But she kept trying, and after just a few more times, the candle erupted in flame. The girl shrieked happily. "I did it!"

"Well, of course you did!" Sokka picked her and the candle back up and started walking through the darkened hallway. "I told you, you are the world's greatest Firebender." She sighed in contentment.

When he tried to drop his niece off in the single spare bedroom, she cried. "I wanna sleep with you."

His shoulders drooped. "Okay," he muttered. How could he say no to a face like that? "Come with me. You can sleep in my room." Thankfully, his bed was big enough for two adults, much less a forgotten old Water Tribesman and his tiny niece. She curled into a ball next to him and fell asleep almost immediately, her ebony locks splayed over his chest like an ink stain. The pattering rain and grumbling lightning had soothed her like a lullaby. He stroked her head carefully, wistfully, and imagined a time when a little girl like this could've been his own.

--

The bright sunlight awoke her the next morning. She was a Firebender, and the beams stirred something inside her that even she couldn't comprehend yet. The feeling was strange but not quite unwelcome.

A dark, tear-stained face met her when she sat up. The girl had to wipe the sleep from her eyes just to make sure of what she was seeing. "Mommy," she said, her voice hoarse.

"Baby," the Waterbender whispered, seating herself where Sokka had lain earlier. She wrapped her daughter in a tight hug, clutching her tangled black curls and cupping the back of her small head. She pulled away so they could speak face to face. "I'm so… so sorry. I had no idea—" The woman looked so ashamed of what she had done.

That was okay, though. The girl hugged her back. "I forgive you, Mommy. And Daddy, too." She settled into the pillows, golden eyes alight with something no one could quite identify. "Uncle Sokka told me about you last night—about how you and Daddy sometimes have to fight and figure things out on your own." She suddenly found the blankets very interesting. "And… it was scary," she admitted, "but I think I know why you did it. And that it's okay to let it go every once in a while."

"No," Katara said strongly, tilting her daughter's chin up so their gazes met. "Doing something that hurts you or scares you, no matter how much your father and I may need it, is never okay. Do you understand this?" The girl nodded, eyes wide. "I am very sorry for hurting you, sweetie. It won't happen again."

"And even if it does," her daughter mumbled into her tunic, "there's always Uncle Sokka to fix things back up again."

The Waterbender gave a tear-filled laugh, yet she couldn't deny that it felt so very wonderful. She gazed through the bedroom's open doorway where her half-naked brother stood talking animatedly with her husband. Zuko looked on, obviously not impressed. "Yes, baby," she replied joyfully, "there's always Uncle Sokka."

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End file.
